


Barbershop

by snarechan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hair, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 06:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: Pomade isn't for the weak.





	Barbershop

**Author's Note:**

> This story was to be part of a tetralogy in which the guys 'borrowed' something from one another during their adventures. I figured since they were never supposed to be gone for so long that they must have packed light or snuck something personal for themselves, and later gotten creative with the resources they had. The concept never made it past this installment, but I still want to share since it's hilarious all on its own. 
> 
> Thanks to glyphenthusiast for the assist! They volunteered their editing services and managed to fix this up lickety-split, but any remaining errors are my own.

In a dismayed voice Prompto said, "This is absolutely, without a doubt, one-hundred percent the worst idea in the history of _ever_."

That morning, he'd discovered that their supply of hair care had dwindled down to almost nothing. The only remaining product was Gladiolus' own stock, and out of desperation Prompto resorted to using some after his shower. Since then he'd somehow managed to get his hand tangled in the longer strands to the side of his head, the rest of it a ratty mess.

Noctis was speechless as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, having attempted the same thing at Prompto's suggestion. In comparison, his typically spiky hair was clumped up in all manner of opposing directions. The top of his hair looked squished flat, with one side stuck upwards and the other weighed down.

"Oh _god_ , I think it's eating me!" Prompto whined. He tugged his wrist a couple times, but only succeeded in burying his fingers deeper and hurting his scalp. His eyes started to water.

Noctis remained unresponsive. Instead, he kept looking at his image in apprehension.

The lock on the door slid clear as someone used the key card to their room. Gladiolus shoved his way inside with his shoulder. He carried a bulging sack of groceries in the crook of his elbow and a plastic bag slung over his back. Ignis was in tow with a paper bag of his own.

Before anyone could say anything, Gladiolus took one glance at the state Prompto and Noctis were in, and bent over laughing. The guardsman lost one of the bags to the floor as he slapped a hand over his knee to keep from falling down.

Noctis snapped out of his stupor. Through gritted teeth he said, " _Not. Funny._ "

Ignis inclined his head around Gladiolus to see what was so humorous. It was obvious by the immediate way his face slackened that he was fighting with every ingrained bit of self-control he possessed not to bust a gut laughing, too. Ignis' voice came off a bit strangled when he shut the door and maneuvered past Gladiolus. "What—mm—do we have here?"

"Someone used up the last of the hairspray, but we all know Gladio keeps some of his own pasty stuff that no one else uses, right? So we tried some of it and…"

While Prompto prattled on, Ignis set down his shopping and picked up the container of hair product. He lifted it to inspect what was inside, but recoiled as the strong odor of it assailed his senses. Ignis pulled a face and said, "This smells of petroleum. Are you certain it belongs to Gladio and not Cindy?"

Gladiolus calmed himself and managed to straighten up. He was still smirking as he said, "Alright, alright. Cut the crap, you guys. It's just men's pomade."

"It's glue," Noctis argued.

"It's water-based," Gladiolus said. He sauntered into the bathroom where Noctis had refused to leave and nudged him aside to turn on the faucet. Gladiolus ran his hands under the stream of water, collecting a generous amount before letting it slip between his fingers.

"It's _stupid_ — Hey!" Noctis jumped when Gladiolus ran his wet hands back-and-forth all over his scalp. The guardsman tugged on a couple spots, which teased them into points. Noctis shoved him away, but Gladiolus had done enough that his hair was more reminiscent of his intentionally 'messy' ensemble, rather than his failed rendition of bedhead.

"Oh."

"You're welcome," Gladiolus chuckled. He rinsed his hands and focused his attention on Prompto. "Now it's your turn."

Prompto gulped and tried to back away, but the small of his back hit a table. He could only watch as Gladiolus descended on him. "Now Gladio, be gentle! I'm delicate. _Very_ delicate. Ack!"

To start, Gladiolus focused on untangling Prompto's hand. A series of protests and complaints, loud and soft by turns, emerged on both ends as the taller man worked. Once freed, he motioned to Ignis for the canister of pomade.

Relieved to relinquish the product, the strategist made no complaint of handing it over. Gladiolus scraped some of the pomade off the top with a thumbnail, then applied it to control the shorter hairs on the back of Prompto's head. In a move that was difficult to follow, Gladiolus gripped the other man's bangs and swooped downward with his fist to set the strands properly out of his face.

Prompto's keening tapered off at the sight of his hair in his peripheral vision. He ducked under Gladiolus' arm to make a beeline toward the mirror in the bathroom. Prompto squeezed in beside Noctis to admire the handiwork. His fingers idly touched up some spots, but there wasn't much work to be done.

“Huh.” The gunman mumbled, studying himself in the mirror. “This is…pretty decent?”

"You could try saying _thanks_ , half-pint," Gladiolus said, although there was no bite to the words.

"Seriously, how did you just do that?" Prompto asked.

"You all remember I have a younger _sister_ , right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So next time I can do a fishtail braid if you ask nicely."

Noctis snorted and slipped past them to venture into the rest of the hotel room. Apparently satisfied with the returned status of his hair, he flopped on the bed. He retrieved his cell phone from the nightstand to play King's Knight. Prompto, on the other hand, seemed to contemplate Gladiolus' words more seriously. "Wait, really?"

"That would certainly explain some of your dexterity," Ignis said.

"Iggy, you should get in on this, too!" Prompto said.

Ignis shook his head and reached inside the bag he'd set down earlier. He pulled out a can of hairspray and gave it a tiny shake. "I believe I'll settle for the old fashioned way."

"Aw, what? It was you who used up everything?" Prompto accused. He paused, lips forming into a pout, then indignantly asked, "And we could have just waited for more?"

He shrugged in the face of Prompto's affronted expression and said, "As the last participant, I had every intention of replacing it."

"Quit your bitchin'. Provided it doesn't rain, you guys will be thanking me when everything's stuck like that for two days straight," Gladiolus assured them.

(To their fascination and horror, it turned out to be more like three.)

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content!


End file.
